Just the sight of that whip was enough to buckle some men at the knees — their eyes darted desperately to one side, seeking rescue. But everyone seated in that hall bore the surname Gu, and even those who did not were no less cold-blooded than the Gu family themselves.

They kept their eyes forward and their expressions blank, as though they saw nothing at all.

Yet no matter how much hatred burned in their hearts, none of them dared to name names. They gritted their teeth and bore it alone — confess and only one man dies; give up an accomplice and an entire household perishes.

An imperial prince, the son of the Emperor — even the gravest matter was still a family affair. A family affair was something one did not die for.

“Carry out the sentence.”

All thirty-two men were brought to the punishment benches, arranged in neat rows within the tribunal hall, directly beneath the eyes of the assembled nobles. Those nearest were practically at their feet. Each lash drew blood and flesh; stroke after stroke sent crimson spattering through the air. From time to time, droplets of blood and shreds of flesh landed on those watching. Some could not suppress a cry of horror. Others sat pale as death but forced themselves to endure.

The Fourth Prince could barely contain himself and would have risen, but the Noble Consort seized him firmly and would not let him move. Across the hall, Consort Rong failed to restrain the First Prince — he shot to his feet, equal parts fury and fear.

“The Seven Lodges Bureau goes too far!”

Gu Yanxi glanced at him with an air of complete indifference. Even through his mask, the First Prince felt the weight of that disregard. Then Gu Yanxi turned back to observe the punishment below.

“Thirty-four.”

The fury surged straight to the First Prince’s head. He wrenched free of Consort Rong’s grip and stormed toward the front. Without any word from Gu Yanxi, before the First Prince had even mounted the first step, he was pinned to the ground. In that instant, all sounds but the lashing ceased — even the condemned forgot to scream.

Every seated figure rose to their feet, faces pale with disbelief.

They couldn’t — they simply couldn’t believe it —

The First Prince himself could not believe he had been subjected to such treatment. From the day of his birth, had anyone ever laid a finger on him? And now, in front of all these people, in front of the Third and Fourth Princes, he had been forced to the ground?!

The First Prince’s eyes flooded red with fury. He struggled with everything he had, but he had forgotten — this was not his prince’s residence. The men pressing him down were not the flatterers who sought his favor. This was the Seven Lodges Bureau. The people here answered to only two individuals, and until he sat upon that throne, not one of them would give him any account.

Against absolute force, all his struggling was in vain. He could not move a fraction of an inch, even after the lashing came to an end.

The Three Tribunals routinely wielded the long whip in their work, and had long since achieved mastery over its use. Three lashes sufficed to take a life if they wished. Yet equally, they could deliver fifty lashes and leave a man only half-dead.

The thirty-two men, soaked in blood, were dragged away. Gu Yanxi rose from his seat, pressed his palm once against a separate memorial resting on the table — but did not open it — then stepped out from behind the long desk and stood at the top of the steps, hands clasped behind his back. His voice, distorted by the mask, rang out clearly.

“First Prince Gu Chengde — without regard for father or sovereign, you colluded with the Celestial Master to harm His Majesty. You are hereby stripped of princely rank and reduced to commoner status. You are to be confined to the First Prince’s residence. Without imperial decree, you are forbidden from leaving for the rest of your days.”

“Consort Rong Yu Shi — you have failed to raise your son properly and have conducted yourself without virtue. Your consort’s rank is hereby revoked. You are to be sent to the Cold Palace. Without imperial decree, you are forbidden from leaving for the rest of your days.”

The First Prince wrenched his head upward with all his remaining strength. “You dare! I am a prince — the eldest prince! What authority do you have to pass judgment on me? You claim I colluded with the Celestial Master to harm the Emperor — where is your evidence? On what grounds —”

Thud.

A thick bundle of case records was flung to the ground before him. Gu Yanxi descended two steps, looking down at him from above.

“You think you covered your tracks completely? To my eyes, you were nothing but a sieve leaking from every seam. Gu Chengde — this is the full extent of your ability. That is why His Majesty spent all these years using the Third Prince to sharpen you, and still you never came close to being fit to be named Crown Prince.”

“Nonsense — if the old third hadn’t been there to butt heads with me, I wouldn’t have had to —”

“Wouldn’t have had to resort to these underhanded schemes? You couldn’t even outmaneuver the Third Prince, and you want to govern the realm? Better to hand it over to him and be done with it.” Gu Yanxi gave a cold laugh and had no further interest in exchanging words with him. “Fu Gang.”

Fu Gang, waiting outside the doors, drew a deep breath, stepped over the threshold, and dropped to one knee. “Fu Gang awaits orders.”

“Seize the Yu household. All members within three degrees of kinship are to be taken to the imperial prison and held to await His Majesty’s disposal.”

“Understood.”

“No!” Consort Rong, who had collapsed against her chair, suddenly came to her senses. The Yu family could not fall. As long as her maternal house stood, there would always be a day to overturn her fortunes. No decree, no decree — perhaps one day a general pardon would come. As long as her family endured, her son might still —

Consort Rong pushed herself upright using the arms of her chair and spoke each word with deliberate weight: “This matter has nothing to do with the Yu family. My son was deceived by me. Everything was my doing alone. I confess my guilt.”

As she spoke, Consort Rong tore the hairpin from her head and drove it toward her own throat. Amid a chorus of horrified cries, the hairpin clattered to the floor — and falling alongside it was a small fragment of silver.

“Whether you are guilty or not is not for you to decide.” Gu Yanxi paced over, picked up the piece of silver, and closed it in his hand. “Even if you were to truly die here today, Gu Chengde’s confinement would stand all the same. The Yu family will still be seized. Come — escort Her Ladyship to where she belongs.”

“Wait — I —”

“His Majesty will not receive you. You have no opportunity to plead for mercy. Please.”

Consort Rong could no longer contain it — a look of pure, undisguised hatred filled her eyes. “You will face retribution for this. Do you think you can shine bright today and shine bright forever? Just wait — whoever rises to that seat will not suffer your presence either. I curse you to meet a wretched end!”

Gu Yanxi raised a hand to stop the others from stepping forward. If he had gone on conducting himself as before, perhaps a wretched end might truly have awaited him. Perhaps a new sovereign would have grown suspicious of him. But not now, and not in the future.

He would think a hundred steps ahead, always staying in front of everyone else. He would carve out a safe distance and place A’Zhi within it — protecting everything she held dear, giving her the peace and stability she wanted. By then, he imagined, A’Zhi would be watching over him in return.

Gu Yanxi thought this, and behind his mask, he smiled.

In good spirits, he found he had even less patience for Consort Rong. With a single wave of his hand, she was immediately gagged and dragged away.

Gu Chengde had been released from the guards’ hold the moment Consort Rong had tried to take the blame upon herself. Yet whether during her plea or her removal, he had not uttered a single word. Gu Yanxi’s contempt for him deepened. He had the man taken away directly — someone this thoroughly spineless, and they would have made him Crown Prince? The great Qing dynasty would have been finished.

His gaze swept once over the remaining princes, who sat or stood in uneasy silence. Gu Yanxi thought to himself that leaving the Sixth Prince with A’Zhi had been a sound decision through and through. As the sixth grew older, whether out of the need for self-preservation or the kindling of ambition, he would inevitably resort to scheming. Better that he follow A’Zhi and see something of the wider world — see how a real family lived with one another — and let some human warmth rub off on him.

The imperial family had no need to be taught ruthlessness; they were born knowing it. But an emperor too devoid of feeling was no blessing for the great Qing dynasty. With the groundwork the Noble Consort Zhen had laid over many years, and the harmony of the Hua family’s influence alongside A’Zhi’s guidance — who knew? Perhaps there might yet be a pleasant surprise.